


Laugh With (At) Me

by loevrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, cw// smoking, draco is clumsy, harry wears contact lenses, its 2019, muggle!AU, prompt, they meet in a store
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 00:49:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loevrites/pseuds/loevrites
Summary: Draco is clumsy. Harry is too hot for his own good.Or.PROMPT: muggle!au where harry and draco meet while shopping for groceries and fall in love.





	Laugh With (At) Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [softfordraco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softfordraco/gifts).

> enjoy! :)

_You can do it, Draco. You’ve got this._

So, yeah, it’s currently a cloudy Sunday afternoon and Draco Malfoy is shopping, as one does.

Except, of course, he’s Draco Malfoy. So he is _going _to balance thirteen different things in his arms. No need for a trolley.

You know who uses trolleys? Middle-aged mums. That’s right. Is Draco Malfoy a middle-aged mum? I thought so.

And, really, everything has been fine up till now because he’s staring at the huge pink doughnut with rainbow sprinkles displayed on the shelf in front of him and he _needs it. _It’s the last one, too, and that is just something that messes with his psyche every time. He has to have it.

So, Draco takes a careful look at his stuffed arms, holding his groceries like a newborn baby and sighs. Once. Twice. Looks at the doughnut. Sighs again. He leans his entire body as close to the shelf as possible and manages to reach his hand and he’s so close, so, _so _close.

Then he’s blinking and his food is on the floor. All of it. Including the pink doughnut. Bloody hell.

He’s standing there for the longest three seconds of his life, his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes watering a little bit when he sees a man approach him. He takes a shaky breath and turns his head to look at the guy and – oh. _Oh. _That’s some mother-bloody-fucking arms right there.

The man is a little shorter than him and has a head full of curls, his skin a sweet toffee shade. He’s wearing a burgundy v-neck and black ripped jeans and Draco is loving it. Damn. Draco is _loving it._

“Do you need help with this?” Draco blinks and closes his mouth (uh-huh. He was just caught gaping at a stranger. Lovely). He tucks a lost strand of hair behind his ear and gets down to start picking everything up.

“Uh, y-yeah. Thanks.” he manages without looking at the, apparently, Victoria Fucking Secret model in front of him. He can see him as he drops to his knees (_his knees. HIS KNEES) _and he’s pretty sure an aneurysm is coming. They pick things up in silence and then Draco’s scrambling to his feet, cheeks _burning _and hands shaking. He huffs a lock of hair out of his face and swallows, looking at the man.

“I’ll help you to the checkout, yeah?”

“Uh, sure. Thank you.”

They walk in silence and Draco keeps glancing at the man, not really wanting this – as awkward as it is – amazing moment to end, but then they’re dropping everything at one of the self-checkout tables and the cute guy (Draco decided to call him that for now) shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Well,” Draco manages. “Thank you again.”

“My pleasure,” cute guy smiles and, oh God, Draco never wants to stop seeing this, his lips seem even softer that way. He bits the inside of his cheek until he can taste blood on his tongue. “Next time, though...” cute guy hesitates and, impossibly so, his grin widens, little wrinkles appearing around his green, _amazing, _eyes. “...just take a trolley.”

“Yeah. I probably should have done that from the beginning.” cute guy huffs out a laugh and mockingly salutes him, already backing away toward the centre of the store, probably to continue his own shopping, Draco thinks.

“Was nice to meet you” he says and _winks at him. No fucking way._

Draco tries to say ‘you too’, he really tries his best, but the wink makes all the air whoosh out of his lungs. Fuck.

He’s blushing while scanning his things.

He’s also blushing while paying for his things.

And he is still blushing when he walks out of the store, a bag full of groceries in his hand.

He’s blushing even more when he sees cute guy in the car park, leaning against his car and smoking a cigarette, scrolling through his phone. He tries to put himself together when he realises that–

He’s parked right next to Draco.

_Cute guy is parked right next to Draco._

He runs his hand through his hair, takes two deep breaths and resumes walking towards his car. Cute guy notices him only when his car lock beeps.

“Oh, hey,” he says and takes another whiff of the fag in his hand. Hand. Oh, man, he’s got such nice hands.

“Hi” Draco smiles a little and opens the boot of his car, throwing the bag in and hiding behind the opened door for a couple of seconds, resting his palms on the inside of the boot and taking another deep breath before slamming the door shut, probably a bit too hard. Cute guy frowns a little but continues to smile.

“Hard day?”

“One could say, yeah. You?” Draco points his chin toward the cigarette in the stranger’s hand.

“Ah, this,” he smiles sheepishly. “A stupid habit, smoking. Tried to quit at least seven times now, nothing seems to be working. Any ideas?”

Draco shrugs and shakes his head; he’s never even tried smoking but he honestly feels like he would start if cute guy told him to.

Oh, cute guy is stepping on the cigarette now, Draco notices, which probably means he’s going to get in his car and drive away and Draco will have to go back to his life and pretend like they’ve never met. He sighs and extends his hand for the man to shake.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, uh...” he waits for cute guy to give him his name, something to remember him by, at least, if not the ridiculous mop of curls on his head.

“Harry”

“It was nice meeting you, Harry” Harry shakes Draco’s hand and looks at him expectantly.

“I’m Draco” he says, shoving his hands down the pocket in his hoodie.

“Draco,” Harry repeats and for once it’s him who looks nervous. He looks like he’s biting his tongue and then: “Would you maybe give me your number, Draco?”

And Draco is a hundred percent sure the aneurysm is on its way now. He opens his mouth, closes it again and then opens it again, his eyes widening a little, his cheeks blushing as though his blood is boiling.

“Draco? I’m sorry if I’m being too forward, I ju–

“Yes,” Draco clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck with a nervous smile. “Yeah, uh. Can I have your phone?” He reaches his hand out and when Harry puts his mobile in it, he puts his number in his contacts as ‘Draco from the shop’. Harry smiles when Draco hands him the phone back, their fingers brushing.

“All right. Thanks a lot. Make sure to get a trolley next time, all right?” Draco salutes him in a desperate attempt to create an inside joke and Harry huffs out a laugh as he walks around to the driver's seat.

And then it hits Draco right in the face because his car keys are not in his hand. And they’re not in his pockets either. He just stands there, staring at the boot of his car, mouth open.

_No._

“Everything all right?”

_No fucking way. He’s about to embarrass himself in front of Harry for the second time in one day._

“Draco?”

“Hmm?” he doesn’t look at him, can’t bring himself to do so as tears start to gather behind his eyes and his shoulders slump. Fucking hell.

“Are you okay? Why aren’t you getting in?”

“Oh, you know,” he presses his back against the cold surface of his car and squeezes his eyes shut for a second to get rid of the stupid tears. He looks Harry in the eyes and he looks genuinely concerned. “I just locked my keys in the boot”

Harry stares at him, silent, for a solid five seconds before huffing out a laugh and then Draco is giggling, hiding his face in the palms of his hands and he can hear Harry laugh louder on the other side of his red Mazda.

It’s starting to rain, Draco is stuck without access to either his car or his groceries, five miles away from home but he’s standing in a car park, laughing, and he doesn’t ever want to stop.

Not if Harry laughs with him.

**Author's Note:**

> i love this. i hope you do too


End file.
